By Pavel Chichikov
Playing patience, thunder shuffles,
Black on red on black descending
Each ladder counting universals
Descends toward lower numbered endings
Interlocked by slow regression
Faces, numbers make confession
Take a diamond, eggshells scratch
Something fertilized will hatch,
Seize a club and smash it in
Cain resolving Abel's sin,
Use a spade to dig the grave
Let erosion scatter, pave,
Tear the breast, display the heart
Which is feeling, which is art?
It is His heart which you display
He lent until another day,
His the deck that we confuse,
His the heart that sinners use
(Click here to follow Pavel's ongoing epic poem “The Shoulder of the Sun.” You may visit Pavel's website at http://www.greyowlpress.com.)
